I lost my camera yesterday — a sentimental lament

[prolesunited]

It wasn't a fabulous camera by any means, just a Sony digital that cost about $300 a couple of years ago. It took decent pics and had a few nice features. By now, its outdated and I can get a better camera at that price point.

But, it's more than that. I bought it the day before a protest in Chicago shortly after the invasion. I wanted to be able to document what I saw and post it on the Web. That camera has been with me at a number of protests since then, including one in D.C.

I've taken it to several DU meet-ups where I've made new acquaintances and several good friends. That camera gave me a touch-point for remembering there really are some good people left in the world.

And then there were the days I escaped with my camera. On days when the walls were closing in, my camera was my companion on treks through the woods, walks along the beach and traipsing through gardens.

It even survived a week-long bicycle trip to Iowa. But, then yesterday. I lost it. I was hurriedly throwing things in the car for a trip to a renaissance fair. We were running late and I'm not sure what happened. It never made it in the car or perhaps I left it on the roof. We retraced our steps later that nigh, but it was gone — either someone's prized find or smashed to smithereens.


Is it weird to get so attached to an inanimate object? I know I would feel the same way if something happened to my racing bike. I'm not a materialistic person, but some objects kind of develop a life of their own.

Anyone else find this to be true? What would you be sorry to lose?

[Susang]

1. I remember that camera

Or should I say, I remeber you trying to figure out how to work that camera! :D

Has it really been that long? :wow:

[prolesunited]

2. Yes, it really has been

And it's nice to count you among the friends that I took pictures of it with. :-)

[Susang]

3. Aw, thanks!

I think someone was in my lap at the time! ;-)